


Weak and Weary

by prettyboydoctor



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Cussing, Fake AH Crew, Fluff, Little bit of angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 20:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5389022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboydoctor/pseuds/prettyboydoctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray gets hurt, Michael fixes him up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weak and Weary

Rooftops were Ray's natural element. Hell, it was his job to sit on them and pick off threats to the crew. This time, however, he was the one with the threat; someone had managed to sneak up the ladder behind him and hit him across the back of the head, dazing him but not knocking him out. Ray scrambled for the hands wrapped around his throat, managing to kick the guy off. He vaguely registered hearing Michael scream in his ear, but was too preoccupied with not getting killed. He pulled out his handgun to shoot the guy between the eyes, shoving the body off him afterwards.

"I'm fine," he panted out, so Michael would stop freaking out. "Jesus Christ, he's dead, I'm fine," Ray repeated, still trying to catch his breath from the struggle as his vision swam slightly. 

"No you're not, they're-" Michael said urgently, his comm cutting out before he could finish his sentence.

Ray scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, "What are you talking about? I'm-" And then Ray saw it. He picked his head up and saw two more guys scrambling up the ladder. "Fuck," he whispered and stood up quickly, gathering his rifle and jumping down from the roof to get away. He was a sniper, he usually didn't need to know much hand to hand combat. He'd been training more recently though, having Michael show him some defensive moves; but still, Ray knew he couldn't take two guys at once. Especially when there were probably more coming his way.

"Get the fuck out of there!" Michael said, gunfire coming from his comm.

"I'm fucking trying," Ray whimpered in pain, having twisted his ankle on the fall. He managed to get a few buildings over, crouching down in an alleyway. "I'm pretty sure I lost 'em," He said quietly.

Michael swore, throwing a grenade to try and get the heat off his back. "Are you okay?" He said, his voice full of concern and exhaustion.

"I think so. Fucked up my ankle pretty good, though," he sighed sadly. That'd be the last of ladders for him for a little while.

"Hey, lovebirds," Geoff said, making his presence known, "Ryan is on his way to get you, Ray. And Michael, I swear to all that is holy, if you throw one more grenade, I will fire you. Or kill you. I haven't decided."

Ray chuckled despite the pain- leave it to Michael to create /too/ much of a distraction. "Okay boss," he said, in response to the promise of a ride. He waited until he heard a motorcycle pull up outside the alleyway. He slung his pink sniper rifle on his back before limping to the bike and getting on, wrapping an arm around Ryan's mid section to steady himself. Ryan was silent as he drove them back to the safe house, Ray shooting at tires with his hand gun to keep the heat off them. 

When they arrived at one of the crew's many rundown apartments to lay low at, he hobbled in, instantly falling on to the couch with a soft hiss and a groan, laying back. Heists didn't usually go wrong for him, he was out of the immediate line of fire. There were rare times though, like today, where the enemy would seek him out and he'd be fucked. Most times there was a dumpster for him to jump into and cushion his fall. Still though, Ray wasn't a fucking pussy. He knew how to handle pain. He put his foot up on the couch, flexing his ankle slightly. At least it isn't broken, he mused to himself. He waited for Michael to arrive at the safe house, restlessly playing on his DS to pass a little time.

When Michael finally broke through the door, he was panting and there was dust in his hair. He had a wide grin on his face until he saw Ray, and went over to the younger male, "Fuck," he breathed, "You don't look okay."

"I'm fine," Ray said softly, "I just twisted my ankle. It isn't broken- I checked." He gestured to said ankle, which was already darkening up nicely, purple and yellow splotches on his light brown skin. There was a small cut as well that had long since stopped bleeding. He sighed as Michael stood up and walked to the bathroom to receive what he assumed was a first aid kit. "Really, I'm fine," he insisted.

Michael seemed to ignore him, grabbing a band aid from the box and putting it over the small cut after cleaning it off. Ray tried to stay still, but still winced whenever Michael touched a particularly sensitive spot.

"Thanks," Ray whispered quietly, though he didn't get an answer as Michael once again stood up, this time coming back with a sharpie. He drew a sad face over the band aid, all the while Ray stared at him, eyebrows scrunched in confusion.

"There," Michael declared when he was done, grinning as he looked up at Ray, pressing a soft kiss over the band aid as Ray rolled his eyes.  
"You're fucking weird, you know that?" Ray laughed softly before pulling Michael up for a deep kiss.

"I know," Michael laughed into the kiss, smiling slightly.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my least favorite thing that I've ever written, but I had to get it done for Eevee (MicheoffParty) because it's her birthday!!! It's based off of ( http://data.whicdn.com/images/157890226/large.jpg ) because I couldn't resist.


End file.
